Fun, demented, sniffing glue and popping bubblegum punk rock that’s not too heavy, knows when to stop, and has that nice bounce-along quality of early Adverts and the Briefs. The following sums it up quickly: “When I’m peeing, it affects my aim/ Got air pockets in my brain.” Not rocket science, but remember, stuff like this is on a knife’s edge and can easily fall into purely fucking dumb (see the last couple of Queers albums. “My cunt’s a cunt.” Please). As it stands, The Sleazies are merely mildly stunted in all the right ways.
–todd (Rapid Pulse)